Sleeping With The Enemy
by Destiny1195
Summary: Jake Vickers suffers consistently with each shift; continuously slogging through abuse from his coworkers and the general public. What happens though, when he finally takes solicitor Simon Reddington up on the offer he made at there first meeting, and meets him in his office, one night.


**So, this little idea came to me when I watched the first episode of this show. At the end, with the whole tucking the business card into the shorts thing, I simply couldn't help but write a little follow up.**

 **There will be some mentions to what happens in the show, but this should only run for a few chapters I think, or the entirety of season 1. We'll see!**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it**

It had been a truly miserable day, but, that seemed to be every day at the moment.

Not only foul weather, but the days duties had been tiring, and the hours had been long. It was now just after 10pm, and PC Jake Vickers had at last escaped from the South Sussex precinct, and had tucked himself away in one of the numerous clubs that littered Brighton's streets. The club was one of the largest in the area, housing numerous dance floors, bars, and a restaurant. The interior was dimly lit, with flashing lights in all the bright and vibrant colours of the pride flag; with a swath of inhabitants depicting every imaginable orientation and lifestyle. What bouncers there were, had been outfitted with dark suits and ties in the colours of the pride flag. The place had been designed as a true bastion of comfort for its patrons, even including an open fire on the ground floor that bathed the surrounding area in a warmth and bright glow that chased away the chill of the evening.

The dance floors were packed to the point of overpopulation, with an array of young and old individuals; male, female, and everything in between, dancing and gyrating as if nothing else in the world existed, or even mattered. The music was too loud, as always, and pulsated throughout the establishment, making conversation near impossible. Of course, Jake hadn't come here for conversation, he'd arrived at this particular establishment for no other reason than to drink away his sorrows, and unwind after a day of being treated like shit by a variety of people he'd encountered whilst on duty, and the ever increasing critique and offence from his training officer, the utterly charmless PC Ryan Draper. The man seemed to have made it his personal mission to make things as hard for Jake as possible from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him; all because he happened to be the son of the Chief Superintendent.

He'd gotten where he had in the police force of his own volition, not through the interference of, and the somewhat overbearing mannerisms, of Robert Vickers. Of course, most people assumed immediately that he was just coasting on his father's position. A soft young PC who got his position with the help of dear daddy - the thought always made him feel bitter, depressed, and worthless. Did people always have to be so judgemental, and form opinions before they even had the chance to get to know him? More than once, Jake had contemplated changing his name, and starting anew in the police force without the fame and weight that came from having the Vickers name.

New name, new precinct, new people; become one with the crowd, completely and utterly indistinguishable from the multitude of faceless individuals who made up the law enforcement service. The idea was all too tempting.

If it wasn't his colleagues, then it was the public, who seemed just as keen on making his life miserable. They'd throw things, shout foul remarks, he'd even been spat on a number of times. He couldn't help but remember his very first day in this job, and near enough being sexual assaulted by a less than sane European woman in the middle of the street.

Jake snorted silently to himself, and took a sip of the far too sweet, luridly coloured cocktail a nameless, suited man had bought him the moment he sat down at one of the few deserted tables in this part of the bar. Jake was no fool, he knew perfectly well that the only reason he'd been bought a drink by someone over twice his age was because the man thought he could get a blow job, or an arse to fuck, as a reward. The man was not in luck.

"Fucking pervert" he muttered to himself, before he finished off the obnoxious drink; cocktails were not his favourite thing, he was more of a real ale drinker, but these mixed things did a wonderful job of getting you pissed quickly, and that had been his original intent.

Jake slid the stemmed glass away from him, and let his head fall back in exhaustion. Now he was here, he didn't entirely feel in the mood for drinking himself into a stupor, and he didn't feel like going home with one the innumerable middle aged men who were perched at the bar, almost visibly licking their lips. If there was going to be sex at the end of the night, then middle aged men were not what he would look for. Jake was only 22, and most of those men were easily old enough to be his father, or older, in some cases.

Slowly, the events of the past few days flashed through his mind; failed car chases, breaking someone's nose, a dead body hanging under a pier...he hated the way that had ended. A desperate man, abandoned at a hospital when he needed people most, all because Ryan fucking Draper thought his job was done. Behind all of that, one moment in particular stuck with him, a chance encounter that had provided a highlight; the moment he had locked eyes with someone through the barred doors of the local criminal holding facility.

For the past few days, Jake had been resisting the desire to take a certain individual up on an offer. It had been the highpoint of his first full shift; an attractive, young defence solicitor approaching him in the underground car park, and tucking his business card into the waistband of Jake's underwear, with a wink and a smile that clearly said 'call me'.

The thought of the encounter always gave Jake a certain flutter in the pit of his stomach, and caused a light blush to appear on his cheeks. He'd wondered, once or twice, if the man, Simon Reddington, had waited until the very moment that Jake had lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, before approaching.

The card had near enough been burning a hole in his pocket ever since, whilst the mere thought of the man had sent blood rushing to his nether regions at an alarming rate. The very slight tan to his skin, his dark stubble and piercing brown eyes, and a scent that would drive anyone mad with desire; it had been such a fleeting encounter, yet Jake couldn't get his mind off of this one man.

Jake smiled slightly to himself, and got up from the less than comfortable chair he'd been sitting in for all of half an hour. He picked his leather jacket up from the back of the chair, shrugged his way into it, and made his way out of the door, into the slight drizzle of the Brighton evening; left hand already pulling his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, whilst the other began fishing around in his jacket pocket for THAT card.

 _xxx_

The small corner office was dimly lit, its inhabitant staring intently at a computer screen, which seemed close to disappearing amidst the sea of paperwork that littered the dark, wooden desk. Whilst the area was normally tidy, immaculately so in fact, the individual who worked here had simply been too swamped with work to keep things tidy. However, the work load was soon to be wrapped up entirely, allowing Simon Reddington, defence solicitor, to enjoy a hard won few days off.

That is, as soon as he'd managed to deal with a few more legal documents. Paperwork had fast become the bane of his life.

Simon pushed himself back from his desk, the wheels on his exceptionally comfortable leather chair taking him back a few steps with ease. He was tired, and had had more than enough of the constant influx of documentation that needed his attention for one reason or another.

Simon stood up slowly, back creaking from the simple action; no doubt the result of far too many hours spent crouched over his desk. He walked over to the back wall, and gazed out of the window at the dreary sight that was Brighton. It was uninspiring at night anyway, but worse when the day itself had been so damn miserable. The sky had been dark grey for most of the day, though he'd been lucky to miss the rain when he'd left home that morning. By lunch, the heavens had opened, pouring a seemingly endless quantity of rain upon the earth; the deluge had stopped a few hours ago, replaced by a continuous drizzle that seemed to have no intention of stopping. The city still looked lifeless, colourless; it was a depressing sight to behold.

He sighed, and returned to the chair that could have been a part of him, for all the time he seemed to spend in it.

He ran his hand through his short dark hair, and reclined in his chair. Simon shut his eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed through his body; perhaps, a brief rest was in order...

 _xxx_

Simon was jolted awake by the easily recognisable sound of the standard Nokia ringtone, its bland tune ringing throughout his office. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his still slightly fogged mind, before he haphazardly stretched an arm towards his desk, seeking his mobile, but succeeding only in knocking a pile of papers onto the floor.

"Shit shit shit, fucking..." The fog of sleep was quickly replaced by frustration, and a hint of annoyance, reminding him that he should put his phone somewhere obvious, instead of under a weeks' worth of legal papers "Where the hell did I put it..."

With another frantic move, he knocked yet another pile of papers onto the floor, a fact which generated yet another string of muttered curses, though they were cut off almost immediately, when Simon spotted his phone. On the very spot where the pile of papers had once been; of course, that was always the way it was.

A smile flashed across his lips, as he snatched up the offending, slim black object, tapped the centre of the screen, and brought it to his ear, professional tone taking over almost immediately.

"Good evening" He cleared his throat, briefly, and resumed "Simon Reddington, Solicitor; how can I be of assistance?"

"Umm...Hey there...It's Jake"

Simon frowned, the name and voice not registering with his memory. He couldn't think of anyone called Jake in his life, friend or otherwise.

"Jake...?"

"Um, oh, sorry...It's PC Jake Vickers" He laughed, the sound somewhere between nervous and embarrassed, before continuing "You gave me your card...the other week...in the precinct parking garage. You, um...tucked it into my...you know..."

A sudden smile broke out across Simon's face, as things settled into place. He hadn't known the young man's name, but the description of how they met was all he needed. How could he forget the attractive young police constable with the boyish good looks, and the charm to match; and now the individual who had dominated his fantasies as of late, was ringing him.

Simon Reddington settled back into his chair, feeling suddenly more relaxed and elated than he had in a number of days.

"Hi Jake. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name last time we...saw each other. Hence my confusion" Simon paused, listening to the sound of Jake laughing, before resuming "So, how are you?"

Simon heard a loud exhalation of breath, and a slight rustling in the background, mixed with the gentle rumble of traffic.

"Could be better. It's just..." He sighed, the sound oddly sad, and almost desperate, Simon thought "It's been hard, my training officer treats me like crap...and the public do as well. I'm just tired and feeling really down at the moment"

"Hmmm, I'm sorry to hear that" Simon paused briefly, and chuckled slightly "So, why call me exactly?"

"Um...I was kind of hoping we could meet up?" The following throat clear made it very obvious that Jake was nervous, a fact that Simon found strangely enjoyable.

"Hmmm...Sure, sounds good to me" Simon hummed to himself, as his mind ticked over the possibilities very briefly, and came to the obvious conclusion half a second later "I'm still at the office; top floor of the precinct, my name's on the door. Why don't you come by, and we'll go from there?"

"Okay. I'm about a 20 minute walk away. So, I guess I'll see you soon?" Jake still sounded nervous, and unsure of himself. The slight stuttering and stumbling over his words made it all very obvious.

"See you then handsome" Simon's voice was smooth and seductive, sending chills down Jake's spine, before he hung up the phone.

Simon pushed away from his desk the second time that night, and stood up, walking over to the window. His evening had suddenly gotten significantly better, at the prospect of what could happen with the young and extremely attractive Jake Vickers. Of course, he recognised the name; anyone with any involvement with Law in South Sussex had heard the name Vickers more than once. Sleeping with the son of such a high ranking officer could potentially be problematic at some future date, but Simon couldn't bring himself to care about something like that.

The erection that was currently creating a large tent in his grey dress trousers was far more relevant.

 _xxx_

The phone clicked, signalling the call had come to an end. Jake had stopped minute's earlier, standing stock still in the street, as he allowed the soft voice to wash over him, sending tingles and ripples along every muscle.

Gradually, the rain picked up, pelting the ground around him, running down his leather jacket, and trickling into his shirt. He quivered slightly, as the ice cold water rolled down his spine, the pace languid, unhurried. Jake felt an odd mix of emotions; he was excited, yet so nervous at the same time. There was just something about the solicitor that made his blood run hot, and made him feel like falling to his knees and submitting to the man...Not something he was accustomed to feeling at all, and certainly not so quickly. `

Jake shut his eyes tight, and raised his head to the grey heavens, allowing the increasingly heavy rainfall to strike his face; soaking him, and running down the gentle curves of his face, plastering his dark hair to his head. The rain chilled him to the bone, but washed away some of the stress, and left him feeling strangely relaxed. It was a cleansing experience, in a way, and gave him a deep sense of relaxation.

He took a deep breath, tucked his hands deep inside the pockets of his leather jacket, ducked his head, and made his way back towards the station building, and the man who had occupied his waking thoughts since the moment he'd first laid eyes on him.

 _xxx_

Whilst Jake had started off at a gentle stroll, the increasingly heavy rainfall had caused him to sprint the remaining distance to the precinct. By the time he had arrived at the near deserted building, he was out of breath, and soaked to the bone.

He settled against the wall by the main entranceway, taking a moment to catch his breath, and allowing the buildings heating to slowly erase some of the chill he'd been feeling. The handy thing about having a skeleton crew around at night was that the building maintained a somewhat constant temperature. Which was, at this point in time, significantly more preferable to the less than palatable chill that permeated the outside world.

Slowly, Jake's breathing returned to normal. He still felt flushed, and tired, and a strange mix of hot and cold at the same time, but at least he was out of the wind and rain. He swiped his hand across his forehead, in an attempt to clear the light sheen of water that had gathered there, though to no real avail; rainwater still dripped down from his sodden hair, making any attempts at improvised drying a simple waste of time. He shook his head from side to side a few times, his normally perfectly styled dark hair flopping with each shake of his, scattering droplets of water at all angles.

After a few moments, Jake smoothed his hair back down, in the hopes of remaining at least partially presentable. Yes, the end goal of the night was blaringly obvious for anyone to see, but he at least wanted to appear as something other than wet and dishevelled. Jake took a deep breath, and pushed off from the wall, making his way further into the precinct, towards the lift that would take him to the top floor, and the man he would in all likelihood spend the night with.

The closer he drew to the door, the more Jakes nerves spiked. Casual hooks ups, he'd had them in the past, but he'd never felt this nervous before. Perhaps the location had something to do with it, or the simple fact that this was a man Jake may encounter in his daily life, and not just a stranger met in the depths of a bar. There could be repercussions, or people may start to talk; he'd already developed a bad reputation in the department, his family name being the only saving grace; and yet, Jake couldn't bring himself to care about any of that now. Ever since he'd started work in the South Sussex precinct, he hadn't had a good moment, until the encounter with Simon in the garage; inexplicably, the man had become the sole positive in his new job.

Before he knew it, he'd reached the end of a hallway on the top floor, and found himself standing in front of a nondescript wooded door, with a gold plated name plate just at eye level, which read 'Simon Reddington'. He was here, and the ability to turn back had been lost.

Jake Vickers stood there, stock still, for what felt like hours, but could have only been a few minutes. His heart beat faster and harder than he'd ever experiences before, and he seemed strangely short of breath. He blinked, and took a deep breath, then another, hoping to steady himself. He raised his hand and clenched his fist, but moved no further; his hand trembled, his whole body shook...Why was he reacting like this?

 _But what do you say to taking chances,  
What do you say to jumping off the edge?  
Never knowing if there's solid ground below  
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,  
What do you say,  
What do you say?_

With a final gulp, Jake made the final move, and knocked on the door.

"Hey Simon, its Jake" called through the door, voice still with a slight quiver.

Jake heard a slight rustling from behind the door, what sounded like papers being shuffled, and a somewhat pained sigh. Then a voice drifted through the door, that voice that had occupied his mind ever since that fleeting encounter.

"Come on in! The door's open" the man sounded vaguely strained, so Jake thought at least.

He grasped the door handle, turned it and pushed the door open, stepping through it at the same time. The sight that greeted him was slightly bemusing, and funny. Simon Reddington leaning against what could be a desk hidden under a mountain of paperwork, with even more scattered about the plain grey carpeting of his office; to be precise, they looked as if someone had picked a few of the piles up, and simply thrown them about the office. Somehow, Jake had expected something a little neater, and flashier; the mess just seemed so out of context with the impression the man gave.

Jake grinned at the suited man, and took a step further into the office, whilst casting his eyes about the room. Bookshelves filled with large tomes on law, a few framed awards, and no sign of anything personal. It was all business.

"So...Um" Jake laughed slightly, the sounding seeming nervous and high pitched to his ears "You look a little busy"

Simon flashed a heart stopping grin at Jake, and let out a deep breath.

"Yeah, I have been" He moved a few steps away from the desk, and looked around the office, a look of displeasure crossing his handsome features "Sorry about the mess, I'm usually cleaner than this, it's just been damn hectic lately"

"No, no, it's alright" Jake smiled at the man again, his nerves slowly subsiding now he'd arrived "Do you need a hand picking this lot up?"

Simon's grin grew a little wider at the offer; it would seem that the young PC Vickers was a genuinely nice person, and not just a pretty face. If only, Simon thought, the Elder Vickers shared the same traits; whilst the man was handsome, very few would have described him as 'nice', he was far too bullish and aloof to be anything of the sort.

"Ah...No. Thank you, though" Simon smiled, the look clearly seductive, as his eyes began to travel over Jakes still clothed form. The young man really did look very good in a simple black leather jacket, and a pair of very fitting black jeans. His t-shirt, whilst plain and a relatively uninspired faded red, surely what some would call pink, was tucked in, and showed off his physique.

Simon lightly licked his lips, admiring the slight blush that had arisen on the young man before him.

"Could you shut the door Jake?"

His voice was low, commanding; it made Jake feel like quaking in his boots, or scattering the remaining papers onto the floor, and bending over the desk, allowing the man to have his way.

"Sure...I'll uh" Jake blinked a few times, finding himself too distracted by the implications that tone held. He turned around to face the door, and grasped the handle as if his life depended on it. Jake pushed the door shut, and began to turn back to the desk, and the solicitor he'd come here to meet. Before Jake had the chance to move an inch, he felt a pair of strong hands latch onto his shoulders; hands that spun him around, and pushed him against the office door. The move drove the air from his lungs, and sent the world spinning.

A mere moment later, before he'd had the chance to recover, his hands were pinned above his head in one strong hand, pressed tightly against the wood of the door. He blinked briefly, before a pair of soft lips clashed against his own, and a slick tongue slowly began working its way into his mouth; Jake felt a hand start to trail down his body, snaked between his legs, and slowly start to massage his already hard cock.

Soon, Jake was only aware of two things; the soft lips moving so effortlessly against his own, and the hand roughly stroking him through the denim of his jeans.

 **Reviews are always good!**


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